for here are spoken naught but lies
by The Lady Avaritia
Summary: "I'd imagine," he says softly and dispassionately " that you think yourself quite the clever one."


**Title: for here are spoken naught but lies**

**Rating: T**  
**Spoilers: G**eneral

**Characters**: Schneizel/Milly

**Summary: "I'd imagine," he says softly and dispassionately " that you think yourself quite the clever one." **

**Disclaimer: **disclaimed

**Author: **_Lady Avaritia_

_Begin note: Those two are my OTP for this anime. I love them so much. I hope I manage to convert you. I'm actually planning a bigger story about them._

She remembers standing in front of her bedroom mirror, twisting her hair out of its braid so it could flow over her shoulders. If there was one thing no one had like her it was the rich gold of her curls, _her princess curls_ daddy had said, _my little Rapunzel_.

No one at school had that, _even_ if Shirley was prettier than her, and Nina smarter - neither had the raw co lour of _her_ yellow in their hair.

Daddy said she was _magical._

Milly drew her fingers through her locks, curling a thick strand around her wrist. She'd grow it long, long, long, till she could tie it round the post of her bed and vault out of her window, slippers crunching against the ivy climbing the wall outside her room. Sliding down until she touched the grass with her feet and ran into the woods free, spreading her arms and spinning in dizzying circles under the light of a moon, laughing a fairy's laugh.

She woke from those dreams happy. She would never tell anyone about them, this was a part of her she didn't need to share with anyone.

Then daddy leaves, packs his bags with not even a proper goodbye. She realizes he's not coming back the moment her mother decides to start arranging marriage interviews to men who are rich, and old and disgusting.

He takes the magic away with him. And Milly is just Plain Jane Milly again, just a dumb blonde, overly enthusiastic, control freak who likes boys that always like other girls first and she never seems to catch a break. Nothing special about Milly Ashford at all, her mother isn't a noble anymore.

She remembers raising a pair of scissors, pressing the blade against her locks. She'll never be free, she thinks. People like her don't get the happy ending, she isn't Rapunzel, she's always going to be second to someone, second to her parents ruin of a marriage, second to Shirley, second to _everyone._

She wants to shear the locks away.

Her hand shakes.

She's too weak. _She can't do it_. For a pathetic thought flashes through her mind, her Rapunzel curls are all Milly _has_. She's never going to leave Ashford Academy and enter the real world, and she can't bear to lop off the only thing she even finds remotely beautiful about herself.

She remembers crying for hours after that, into her pink bedspread. She cries till the pillow is sodden with her tears and her eyes are so red she thinks they're going to melt in her head which pounds and pounds and _pounds -_

She's not Rapunzel. And the woods aren't safe enough to dream about anymore.

~x~

Between the ages of fourteen and sixteen Milly falls in love.

A lot.

Over and over and over, she falls in love, with too many people and not enough people and it's _scary_ and _thrilling_ and she can't stop smiling because each time it happens she feels braver and braver, only each time it _ends_ she falls a little more and more into her pink bedroom, where she struggles to edit and edit and find a moral to this chapter of the fairytale before realizing that love's really not what it seems at _all_.

(and she's fucked up the story for her readers because predictable plots are boring and everybody knows the blonde popular girl goes left instead of right and thinks the dark arrogant boy loves her until she walks in on him with a blonde girl who's not her)

She changes the words in her script, from falling in love to just fucking and promises herself to never, ever fall in love again. Not until the perfect man comes.

The tall-dark-handsome leading man who's bad and lonely like she seems to be and they'll be perfect and defy all odds.

She fucks and gets fucked in between the ages of fifteen and seventeen and those times are the ones that make the readers either laugh or cry because sometimes drunk Milly is very, very funny (she never trips when she's drunk because she's been wearing heels since she was twelve but sometimes some of the things to come out of her mouth prove she's a real blonde) and sometimes she just _pretends_ to be drunk because it's an excuse and it's all really quite sad when eventually she ends up all alone.

She's Lelouch's first. On the night of his fifteenth birthday, when the party the Student Council threw him was at its end, and there were empty plastic cups and matted torn decorations rolling amidst half-drunk people (God bless Rivalz and the way he managed to sneak alcohol into the academy grounds), he kissed her. Right there, under a bunch of withered party balloons, under the fake electric light, he put his hands on her wasp-like waist and kissed her, and pulled her closer. He was just as tall as she was, and he was dominating. And he dragged her away from the dying party, and they did it on the dusty couch in an empty half-dark room. He was confident, and he was demanding, and while she pulled on her stockings, and he buttoned his blazer, he looked straight at her, and said quietly "This was my first time." She almost didn't believe him.

One night stands are best done sober, because knowing they'll leave while sober is totally different from being slightly aware of that fact while drunk.

She imagines the readers cry a lot in her book.

And from a fairytale it turns into a chick-lit with tons of smut.

And then eighteen comes with a sweeping declaration from her mother, and she goes and meets another suitor, and he is not at all how she imagines him.

Enter, Lloyd Asplund.

He has a cheerful smile, and a cutting intellect, and he's rich and _nobility, _and he sends her extravagant (and expensive) gifts, and takes her to royal functions.

And the more he takes her to mingle with the high society she so missed, the more she realizes that there's a very real chance of her returning to the life she had before-

(before red-headed mistresses, before her father took his fairytales away, before the name Ashford became a synonym of disgrace, before she stopped being a princess, and being magical)

-her father left and took his title with him.

She remembers that time, when she was just a little girl, and daddy spun her around in circles.

'As long as you have your magic, you will never have to worry about anything.'

And she went to court with her family, a beautiful doll in dolly clothes – lace, and silk, and velvet, and everyone was jealous.

~x~

She returns to court for the first time with Lloyd at Christmas. She's terrified. Her palms are sweating in her black satin gloves, and she grips his hand with breaking force, to stop from shaking.

"Earl Asplund and his fiancée, lady Ashford"

she can feel the entire ballroom go silent, can sense a hundred eyes burning through her.

(her father left her family, and has a new wife and a new daughter, and she is a disgrace, disgrace, disgrace)

She tilts her head, and looks down on the crowd arrogantly, like she's seen Lelouch do. Her heels make her taller, and her dress is long, and heavy, all creamy silk, black lace and puffy skirt, and she's wearing a set of onyx jewelry in white gold, and she looks majestic, regal even.

She taks a step forth, crosses the invisible threshold. The whispers start. She smiles a little with her painted lips. She's back in the game, finally.

And maybe, just maybe, marrying earl Asplund won't be so bad. Certainly, if it means returning to this world, her world. And suddenly all the princess-y knowledge that has been buried in her for years now comes right back.

(stand under a chandelier, your hair seems brighter, smile always, look people in the eye at all times, never refuse a dance, or a drink, slip out unnoticed, return unnoticed, flirt with class, if you can't smile, hide your face under a fan, leave your consort's company only if he leaves yours first, don't eat more than three bites, four glasses of wine is the limit, unless you manage to sneak a few unnoticed, and most importantly…

Here are awoken naught but lies.)

She missed it. And really, it's not her fault. This is the world of her childhood, beautiful people, glamorous court-rooms, and nobles smiling, pleasant snakes, seducing darkness.

Everybody like a taste of aristocratic wickedness.

She finally feels like the story got back on track.

~x~

There's a New Year's royal function a week later. They attend it. This time her dress is from a heavy golden material, and the bodice is covered with crystals. She is the brightest woman there, despite the fact that there are three crown princesses and four royal consorts present. She's blazing and golden, and beautiful, and oh, if only her father could see her now.

That's when she first meets him in person.

Lloyd has left her side, and so, she is on one of the large balconies, leaning over the stone railing, and toying with her champagne glass (the third) waiting for the fireworks to start. She's thrown a light transparent shawl over her shoulders, but it does nothing against the biting cold. It just looks good, and makes her golden Rapunzel curls stand out more.

He steps out on the terrace, and she hears him. She turns around, expecting a bored boring person looking for solitude. Instead, she faces Schneizel El Britannia.

Up close, in person, he's even more handsome than on TV. He's, hands down and no competition, the single most beautiful man she has ever seen. He surpasses Lelouch, something se never thought possible. He has golden hair too, and fair porcelain skin, and eyes like glaciers. He smiles.

'Good evening, Miss…'

'Ashford,' she introduces herself, and gives him half a curtsey, partly, because her dress is too heavy and her corset makes her come short of breath, and partly, because she feels daring tonight.

'I am charmed,' he tells her, as she offers him her hand. He takes it carefully, delicately, and breathes over her glove covered knuckles.

She turns her head, lets a curl fall over the side of her face as she blushes.

'The pleasure is all mine,' she assures him.

He chuckles, a deep pleasant sound at the back of his throat, and sounds like snakes slithering in silk. This is a dangerous man.

'Dance with me, Miss Ashford,' he whispers, and his lips almost touch her skin as he does. 'Not there. Here.'

She complies. His hand is pleasant warmth on her waist. He holds her other hand carefully. He has long elegant fingers. He is a good dancer.

He leads her masterfully through the steps of a waltz, and then, as final accords of the music from within are hanging in the frozen air between them he leans down and presses his lips against her forehead.

'I look forward to seeing you again tonight, Miss Ashford.'

And she knows… men like him lie like snakes on trees. But he is handsome and clever and so not-boring and a prince.

~x~

She knows how fairytales like this end. She likes to think of herself as some sort of Anne Boleyn, but she does not plan on getting her head chopped off when she begins having an affair with the second heir to the Britannian throne.

Even if Lloyd knows, or suspects something, he never speaks. Now she receives gifts both from him and the prince. Her prince.

'You know, Milly,' he asks her one night, as they lay sated in the while satin f his sheet, and he toys with her hair lazily, 'I think I figured your magic out.'

'Oh?'

'You are full of light. You are full of good intentions. You never lie. If you had to lie to make people believe in your magic, it wouldn't work. You are refreshing from court. I think… I think I enjoy your honesty most of all.'

'How would you know if I'm ever being honest with you?' she asks innocently, looking up at him with her large blue eyes, while snuggling closer to his muscular chest.

He chuckled deeply, and she feels the vibration of the sound up her spine.

'I have a PhD in psychology,' he tells her, ' I am a diplomat,' he tells her, 'If you ever lie to me… I will hurt you,' he tells her.

She knows.

~x~

She is in love with him. Her fairytale might come true.

Six months from the beginning of the affair The Ashfords all gain the titles of Dukes and Duchesses. Her mother approves.

And schedules a spring wedding.

Milly cries. Milly screams.

But she can't be the prince's mistress forever, her mother says. She has to be respectable and have a husband.

So Milly lashes out at Lloyd. She screams at him, goes into hysterics, cries, hits him, even, so hard that she knocks his glasses off, and feels sorry.

He says it's okay.

She doesn't see Schneizel until the wedding.

Her gown is heavy white silk covered with black lace, like swan wings, and her smile is like a decayed banana peel, just about to fall off her mouth.

After the reception, when everyone is half-drunk, and celebrating her grief, she is alone. Another terrace, another evening, another glass of champagne (seventh).

'I'd imagine,' he says softly and dispassionately, 'That you think yourself quite the clever one.'

She expects him to be angry, but he is just sad. Sad and tired.

'I should have known better,' he tells her. 'They do that kind of thing all the time. With my father. With my brothers.' He laughs. 'But I'll give you that, Milly. You never lied.'

He has a beautiful dashing smile.

'You know… I think I almost loved you there, for a moment. That one morning in June, when you stayed in my rooms. You were asleep, and the sun was shining, and your hair looked like threads spun of gold, and wished I could draw, so I could paint you. I hope you are happy, Duchess Ashford-Asplund.'

He raises his glass in mock cheer, and leaves. She stays frozen, she says nothing.

~x~

I loved him, Lloyd, I really did.

_I know._

I don't love you.

_I know._

We can't divorce.

_I know._

Her fairytale's turned into a period drama, and her fiancée-turned-husband knows too much. She feels like a cheated little girl. Schneizel feels like she used him. She feels like she used him.

And she has to accept it, finally. Her magic's just a big old fat _lie_.

~x~

And daddy's special princess grows up.

_Please, if you favorite this story, add a review, and say a few words why. I want to know what I'm doing right._


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